


something in the air that night

by adorations



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post s2ep6 Epidemiology, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:48:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23474926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adorations/pseuds/adorations
Summary: "I love you.""I know."- s2ep6, "Epidemiology""Is it true that you and Abed Nadir have an elaborate doomsday escape plan to be used in the event of zombie attacks?"- s5ep4, "Cooperative Polygraphy"Or, after the Halloween party no one can remember, Troy and Abed make a plan.
Relationships: Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Comments: 41
Kudos: 588





	something in the air that night

**Author's Note:**

> hi, i haven't been able to let these two go and i noticed a line in season 5 that got me thinking about epidemiology. i decided to write what i thought happened right afterwards, during a viewing of marmaduke. please leave a comment and tell me what you think!

The longer the night went on, Troy realized, the worse he felt.

"I don't know. I don't know. I don't remember anything," Abed had said to him in the library (or liscarry, as the Dean had so called it) when they finally came to. "That's not bad, right?"

"Nah, man," Troy had reassured him, because that seemed like the right answer at the time. He couldn't remember anything either, after all. Nothing after arriving at the party with Abed.

Or at least Troy thought so. Every time he tried to think about the night they had, his brain got fuzzy just like it did when he tried to think about Inception. He figured that must be a side effect of getting roofied.

Or maybe he had a concussion. Because his head also ached and throbbed the same way it did when he used to play football, right after he'd get his head slammed into the ground so hard he'd see stars and the coach had to sit him out. It was possible, Troy thought. He couldn't remember after all, maybe he had fallen or something and given himself a concussion when he got roofied. 

But he also had wounds, sores and scrapes and bruises, all up and down his arms, his torso, even on his face. If he moved too much, he could feel them pulse, even underneath the bandages. So maybe it was more than just Troy falling down. Maybe someone had tried to hurt him. That might explain why Troy's heart still raced, even hours later, and why he'd spent the night flinching at unexpected sounds. It might also account for the uneasy feeling settled in Troy's stomach. It had buried itself in there much, much earlier in the night and still churned, threatening to burst out like - well, like in Alien.

Troy glanced at Abed. His gaze were fixed on the screen, and he leaned forward in his seat, supposedly engrossed in the movie. He and Abed had changed out of their costumes and into pajamas as soon as they got to the dorm, and Abed's green flannels exposed the dark bruises forming on his neck that had been hidden before. Troy's eyes traveled up. Abed's eyebrows furrowed underneath the bandage on his forehead and he watched the television set with harrowed look that no one should ever have while watching a children's movie. Troy felt something surge within him. Who could possibly look at Abed and want to hurt him?

"You're staring at me," Abed said, keeping his eyes forward. "I thought you wanted to watch Marmaduke."

"I do," said Troy automatically. "Or I did, anyways. I guess I thought it would like, calm me down?" He played with his fingers. There was dried blood underneath his fingernails. Troy tried not to think about how it may have gotten there. "I feel pretty amped up right now, man. And not in the good way, like I could go score the winning touchdown, or something. Like in a bad way."

"Like the music is building to a jump scare but you don't know when it's coming," said Abed. "I know what you mean."

"You do?"

Abed stood abruptly and moved to the other side of his dorm. He paced back and forth along the length of the wall. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates but dark, almost bloodshot.

"Abed?"

Instead of answering, Abed picked up his cellphone from the small table next to him. "Uh oh."

"What?" Troy asked, fear levels spiking again. But why? Abed could pick up his phone. Abed could be on the other side of the room. He could away from Troy. It wasn't like there was any danger there. Somehow, Troy has to remind himself of this.

"Many missed messages."

"Tongue twister," Troy whispered.

Abed put his phone to his ear, and it rang only twice before someone picked up. Britta spoke so loudly Troy could hear it perfectly even without Abed putting it on speakerphone.

"Abed! I've been calling you all night, I've been worried sick. Where did you and Troy go?"

"Back to my dorm. There was no reason to change our Halloween plans," Abed replied. "Why were you worried?"

Troy heard Britta hesitate. "Because... Because I'm your friend? Because we all got roofied? I don't know Abed, am I not allowed to worry?"

"There's no law against it," said Abed.

There's a silence Troy could only assume was Britta sighing.

"Well, you guys took off before I could say goodnight. We got Pierce home safe, no thanks to you two."

Troy felt a pang of guilt. Leaving without making sure Pierce got home probably wasn't the best roommate behavior. He blamed the lapse on judgement on a cloudy mind and racing heart.

"Put me on speaker," Britta continued. Abed obliged. "Troy, Abed, if you're going to take off like that at least one of you has to answer your phone."

Troy knew that should be his cue to dig out his phone and check his messages, maybe text his mother to take sure she hadn't heard what happened at the school. But he felt so exhausted at even the thought of dealing with his mother that he felt his muscles droop and his eyes get heavier. Although, to be fair to his mother (because Troy knew she would nag him for even having that thought), he felt exhausted regardless. Like he had ran a hundred miles. With someone chasing him. 5 minutes ago.

"...Even Jeff was worried about you-" Troy tuned in to hear Britta say.

"They're adults who can make their own decisions, I was not worried," said Jeff in the background.

"...Okay, Jeff wasn't worried because his toxic masculinity wouldn't let him but he did ask where you went at least once."

"To my dorm," said Abed. "I already told you that."

"Alright," said Britta, resigned. "That's all, then. I'm glad you're okay. Happy Halloween. Goodnight, Abed. Goodnight, Troy."

"Night!" Troy called out with as much as energy as he could muster.

Abed set the phone back on the table. "We'll finish Marmaduke. To calm you." Rather than moving back to the couch, however, Abed stood there, unmoving and facing Troy. His eyes are fixed somewhere just beyond Troy (maybe on the Stand By Me poster on the wall) and his hands hung limp at his sides. Troy could see Abed's shoulders just slightly curved in on himself. It made him look small, even with Abed's height.

"Actually, I don't think it's really helping. To, uh, calm me down." For a split second, Troy felt shame for having admitted this, but that was stupid, he decided. It was Abed, after all. What did he have to hide from him?

"I understand. You need a different movie. I can find one for you. Just tell me what you need. "

"Actually, um. No more movies tonight, I think."

Abed blinked. "Oh."

"Abed, I feel really weird about tonight." Abed nodded once, a took a step closer to him. "You said earlier that you knew what I meant?"

"Whoever did this altered my brain chemistry," said Abed quietly. "That's a big deal for me. And your brain chemistry, too. And Britta's. And Jeff's. Everyone. And that must be why we feel like this." He took a few more steps. "I don't think it's a shared delusion. And it can't be an alien abduction or there would be crop circles."

"Right." For some reason, even the thought of something taking over their bodies, extraterrestrial or otherwise, made him feel a little queasy. "So our brains are all out of order? That's why we feel so weird?"

Abed nodded. "Some sort of post-traumatic stress response." He shuffled his feet against the carpet. So Abed was feeling just weird as he was. Troy wondered if how much of it came from whatever they experienced that night and how much of it came from just having the knowledge that his brain had been altered against his will. Troy watched Abed's eyes dart back and forth from his left foot to his right, and wondered if maybe it was both, in equal measures.

"Hey, Abed? I think we should just to go to bed."

"That's probably the most logical move," said Abed. Troy wondered if it was relief he saw flicker across Abed's face. "It's good that you're still sleeping over tonight. As long as we're both in the same room, we'll have double the defense if anything tries to attack us during the night."

Normally Troy would have follow up questions to something like that but tonight, it makes perfect sense.

Abed turned away from him. "You can just take the top bunk this time. I don't want to race for it right now."

"Oh," Troy said as Abed wordlessly switched off the lights and slid into the bottom bunk. "Yeah, okay."

He climbed up into the top bunk and stared up at the ceiling.

The top bunk smelled like Abed, which was comforting in a way Troy hadn't been expecting. But it also made him a little sad. Sad that Abed didn't get to sleep in his favorite bunk, sad that they were both stuck in the same, weird headspace, and sad in a way that doesn't make sense. He's sad that he couldn't see Abed to make sure he was safe and that Troy couldn't watch him drift off to sleep with his own eyes.

Troy decidedly doesn't like the top bunk as much as he usually does.

"Hey, Abed? I actually think I want to sleep on the bottom this time."

For a moment there's silence and it does nothing to soothe Troy.

"Okay," Abed said finally.

Troy climbed out of the bed and stood next to it, waiting for Abed to trade with him. But Abed didn't get up. He only scooted to the side to make more room and stared at Troy through the dark.

"If we're together," Abed repeated, his eyes wide and wild, "we'll have a better defense if anyone tries to attack us."

"You're right," said Troy. He carefully laid himself down next to Abed.

For a few moments, that's all it was. The two of them laying on their backs, side by side, not touching save for their arms acting as a buffer between them, neither one daring to speak.

"We may have better defense, but if we have to split up," Abed said into the darkness, "I want you to be the one that escapes and continues the story."

"What?! Abed." Troy rolled over to face him and tried to ignoring the ache in his muscles. Abed lifted his head to look at him. "I wouldn't just leave. There has to be a way we could both escape."

"Not if the narrative calls for a sole survivor. If that were the case it should be you. It would subvert a lot of tropes, for one thing." Abed exhaled lowly. "And I'd want it to be you."

"I think," Troy said carefully, "we should make a plan. For both of us."

Abed shifted his entire body to face Troy. "An escape plan."

"A survival plan."

Troy could see the gears turning in Abed's head. "Like if two comic-relief bandits try to rob us on Christmas."

"Or if aliens try to abduct us. Or..." Suddenly Troy found his mouth too dry to speak.

"...Zombies," Abed finished for him. Of course he did. Somehow, he always knew what Troy was thinking, even if Troy himself didn't know yet.

"Yeah." Troy's voice cracked. "Yeah. Zombies. We should have a rendezvous point. That way even if we do get split up we can still find each other."

Abed's eyebrows furrowed. "There used to be a video rental store downtown. Next to the iHop and the antique shop Pierce got banned from. The store went out of business but the building's still there."

"That sounds perfect."

"I think we should escape by boat," said Abed. "There's not many movies where zombies can swim."

"Okay..." Troy said, beginning to lose himself in the plan. He scooted closer to Abed. "I don't own a boat."

"Neither do I. We'll have to bargain our way onto one."

"I'm prepared to do that." Troy nodded solemnly. "We can make ourselves getaway bags tomorrow. Fill them with condoms, just in case they're difficult to convince. We may have to persuade them using our seductive charm and dashing good looks."

"We should have gold coins, too," Abed suggested. "Gold will have value in every country. Also we should put this in writing."

"Tomorrow," Troy promised. "First thing."

"I like this plan better," Abed said.

"Me too." A lump formed in Troy's throat and that churning, upsetting feeling in his stomach was back with full force.

He and Abed were face to face, almost nose to nose. Even with the lights off, when he was this close Troy could see Abed's injuries better than he could all night. The bruising on his neck taunted Troy. He wanted to heal it. He wanted to destroy whatever had done that to Abed and to make sure it never happened again. He wanted to reach out and touch him.

Before he could think better of it, he reached a hand out, leaving it hovering right over Abed's skin. "Is this okay?"

Abed furrowed his eyes brows. "What's your character motive?"

"No motive. Just me."

Abed considered it for a moment. He nodded.

Troy's fingers come to rest lightly on Abed's skin. He's careful not to press onto the bruise too hard – Troy didn't want to hurt him. Abed wasn't moving, just staring back at Troy.

Troy's hands made their way upwards, coming to rest on Abed's face. His thumb grazes across the dark circles under Abed's eyes. Part of him hoped that the action would get rid of them, like wiping away markings on a dry erase board. Even though he knew it wouldn't work, he found himself a little upset that they remained.

Troy's hands moved further still. His fingers grazed across the bandage on Abed's forehead. He worried a little that he was crossing some boundary he couldn't quite define, but Abed wasn't reacting negatively. He wasn't reacting much at all, Troy realized, and quickly felt panicked. He's about to pull back when, without thinking, his hand moved from the bandage and slipped into Abed's hair. Abed's eyes fluttered closed. He tilted his head to lean into Troy's touch.

Oh.

"I love you," Troy said, because he did.

"I know."

"You do? Wait, is that a Star Wars reference or did you actually know?"

"Would you be angry if I said it was both?"

"Nah, man." If anything, it was comforting to hear Abed referencing as usual. "It's just that I don't even think _I_ knew."

"I knew you had a motive," Abed said. "In every scene, each character always has a motivation."

Troy couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but Troy's hand was buried in Abed's hair and Abed hadn't pushed it away yet. That couldn't be a bad sign, could it?

"I guessed your motivation but I thought I was being too unrealistic. Sometimes I allow myself a little bit of fan service but it's usually fanciful and unrealistic. I didn't think it was actually the reality."

Troy bit his lip. "What's your motivation then?"

Abed glanced down at Troy's lip and then back up. "I think this is where I should kiss you."

"Okay," Troy said, trembling.

Abed blinked. "Are you saying okay because you want to or because you feel like you need to in this scene?"

Troy's heart pounded. "Because I want to."

"Cool. Cool cool cool."

Suddenly Abed was even closer and was kissing him like something out of a movie. Which movie exactly, Troy wasn't sure. At first he thought it must be some movie Abed had seen that he hadn't, but the more time he spending kissing him the more Troy realized that it wasn't a kiss pulled from a movie, it was Abed, as himself. It was just so much better than anything else Troy had ever had that it felt unreal, like a movie. Or a dream. He wanted to kick himself for ever having wasted time kissing anyone other than Abed.

"I had a feeling," said Abed, pulling away, "that we were shifting genres."

"Yeah?" Troy resisted the urge lean back in and kiss him again. One of Abed's hands now rested on Troy's shoulder. "Which genres?"

"We began as an ensemble based borderline absurdist sitcom with family comedy tendencies, but tonight we've been acting like it's the aftermath of a war drama as we transition to romantic comedy." Abed's eyes flew to the ceiling in what Troy could recognize as mild embarrassment. "And I thought the group as a whole was moving forward with more romantic intentions at the start of this season. And I wanted to stop it."

"I remember. You thought romantic subplots were boring."

"I've never been a part of one."

"Abed," Troy started, "If you... If you don't want a romantic subplot, that's okay. We can just be friends." It makes Troy's heart ache but he'd rather just be friends with Abed than know Abed was uncomfortable. Or to lose him completely because of it. "We don't just have to do it just because the context calls for it. If you don't want to."

"I want to be in a romantic subplot. With you, if that's not clear." Abed cocked his head. "Why would you think I don't want you?"

Relief washed over Troy. "I don't know, man. I guess I've never really done this before. The genre transition, I mean." His own hand still sat at the base of Abed's neck. He rubbed a circle there with his thumb. It wasn't not even a conscious thought, just something he found himself doing because it felt right in the moment.

Maybe he was overthinking it. Troy was always overthinking the simple and under-thinking the important, it seemed. Except, of course with Abed. Being with Abed wasn't difficult to figure out, it wasn't complicated, and it didn't make Troy feel stupid. It never had. That was what had gotten Troy to this point, right? It was Abed. And for everything Troy didn't know, he knew Abed.

"I've only ever observed it," Abed said. 

"I guess," said Troy, "We'll have to figure it out as we go."

"If we're going to do this, I won't always know what to do. You'll need to tell me sometimes, if I'm doing something wrong. I don't want to mess it up." Abed was rambling, which Troy knew meant his mind was moving twice as fast. "And sometimes I won't want you to touch me and it might not always be for a good reason. And other times I might want you to touch me but I might not know how to express it the right way. I'm not great at subtlety."

"That's okay," Troy said. "Honestly, I like it when you're straightforward about things like that. Otherwise I get confused sometimes." Troy wondered if Abed had ever realized what a gift it was for him to have things explained so clearly. No one else had ever shown him the same level of understanding. 

The corner of Abed's mouth lifted upwards in a small smile. "This couldn't have worked out better even if I had written it."

Abed's hand was still on Troy's shoulder. He wanted to melt into the touch. Just as he had that thought, Abed's hand snaked its way to the small of Troy's back and pulled him in closer. Troy ended up with his face buried in Abed's chest and his arms wrapped around Abed's torso. 

"I have a feeling we'll have to have more conversations about this in the morning but for right now I just want to you close to me," Abed said with his chin resting on top of Troy's head. "I hope that's alright."

"More than alright. It's awesome." It's also incredibly soothing. For the first time that night, Troy felt that anxious, looming feel in his stomach settle and disappear. It's so relaxing in, in fact, that despite all the aching in his bones, his muscles, his wounds, Troy found himself drifting off to sleep. 

The last thing he remembered was hearing Abed murmur "This opens up a whole new genre of movie homages," and feeling so, so grateful to be alive.

**Author's Note:**

> thank guys, and i hope you're all enjoying having community on netflix now, i know i am. please leave a comment and tell me what you think, i really really appreciate it, and leave kudos if you like it! thanks!


End file.
